Iv

And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,° Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine, Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light Like Phoebus lampe° throughout the world doth shine, Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne, And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile, To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,° The argument of mine afflicted stile:° The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred,° a-while.

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